


The Edinburgh Adventure

by donutsweeper



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-02-27 19:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18745312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: There didn't seem to be anything historically significant about Edinburgh in 1877, but they tracked Mothership there so the Time Team, of course, followed.





	The Edinburgh Adventure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/gifts).



> Thanks to GlassesOfJustice for the beta!

"So you really have no idea why we're in Edinburgh?" Rufus asked, looking really uncomfortable as he fidgeted and tugged at his starched collar. 

"Edinburgh in 1877? No. There's a few famous figures who were here at this time I think but, as for specific historic events? This isn't like the Hindenburg or the Alamo or Watergate or the World's Fair, there's..." Lucy trailed off with a sigh. 

"And Flynn didn't know anything?"

"Nope." Wyatt didn't even try to keep how little he believed Flynn out of his voice. "According to Agent Christopher, when she asked him about this trip he said he wasn't familiar with all of Rittenhouse's plans and then he claimed that 1877 Edinburgh didn't ring a bell. He could have been lying, but it doesn't really matter. We've had times when we didn't know mission parameters before, this one's no different."

Rufus smirked and shook his head, muttering what sounded like, "Mission parameters," under his breath but didn't comment on it further so Wyatt pretended not to notice. 'Mission parameters' was a perfectly valid term. 

After a minute or two Wyatt turned to Lucy, pitching his voice so he couldn't be heard over the hustle and bustle of the crowd they were walking through. "So, famous figures? What do you think, are any of them important enough that Rittenhouse might want to take them out of the timeline or try to change who they are or something?"

Lucy shrugged. "Robert Louis Stevenson was from Edinburgh?" When both Rufus and Wyatt gave her blanks looks she added, "The author? He wrote _Treasure Island_ and _Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde_ , but while I know he's from here I honestly don't know if he's still living here now." 

"Well, we can keep him in mind, but he doesn't seem to be a likely target, anyone else?" Wyatt asked.

"Elsie Inglis, she was a suffragette and doctor in the first World War, but I think we're a little too early for her unless they're going after a child, which I wouldn't put past them, but it doesn't feel right to me. There was the whole Burke and Hare resurrection men scandal—"

"I'm sorry," Rufus interrupted, "But 'resurrection men'? Do I even want to know what exactly resurrection men were?"

"They were men who provided cadavers to medical schools for anatomical study, but it doesn't matter, as I was going to say, we're forty or fifty years too late for Rittenhouse to want to have anything to do with them," Lucy explained with a dismissive gesture. "Let's see, Charles Darwin attended the University of Edinburgh Medical School but that was years before now. We're in 1877 and _Origin of Species_ was published in '59 or '60 or sometime around then so this can't be about him either."

"Maybe Rittenhouse is planting someone who'll play an important role in the future?" Rufus suggested.

"Maybe? With no obvious historical reason for coming here that is a possibility. There's no real way of knowing for certain," Wyatt said, even though he didn't want to admit it. He'd given up trying to figure out RIttenhouse a while ago; if they had some sort of master plan, it was well beyond him. "But I have to say, I don't like it. We know they're here, now, and I don't want to leave until we've done our best to try to track them down."

Both Rufus and Lucy agreed; Rufus saying "I don't either," the same moment Lucy said, "Me either."

Wyatt looked at the two of them. "Then I guess we're staying. Why don't we see if we can find a newspaper or something to gather intel."

While they walked Lucy kept muttering a litany of significant events that happened in the late 1800s in the British Isles and listing off random Scottish historical figures. She came to a sudden stop and grabbed Wyatt's arm. "Bell! Flynn said it didn't ring a bell!"

"Yes?" Wyatt hazzarded, confused by her excitement.

"Alexander Graham Bell! He's from Edinburgh!"

"Okay, great, Alexander Graham Bell. Now all we have to do is," Rufus began before Lucy interrupted, correcting herself,

"No, sorry, it can't be him. I'm pretty sure he was already in the US inventing the telephone by now."

"Well, it was a good idea though," Wyatt said, patting Lucy's hand before gesturing up the road, "we'll just have to—"

"Oh wait, Bell!"

Rufus raised an eyebrow, obviously as confused as Wyatt was at Lucy's repeated declaration. "But you just said it couldn't be him."

"No, Joseph Bell!"

"Who?" Wyatt asked.

"Doctor Joseph Bell. He was a very famous man in his own right—a brilliant surgeon, a pioneer in the field of forensic science, the author of several medical textbooks—but, he's probably best known for being the inspiration for Sherlock Holmes."

"And…." Wyatt said as he gestured for her to continue.

"Arthur Conan Doyle was here, at the University of Edinburgh Medical School, studying to be a doctor when he went to one of Bell's lectures. Bell became one of Doyle's professors and eventually took Doyle under his wing. Doyle became his assistant and learned from Bell the techniques of deducing information from patients based on clothing and calluses and hair styles and everything that Sherlock Holmes would later become famous for."

"Right. So, I can see him being important to Doyle's writings, but if they don't meet what's the big deal?" Rufus asked. "Some books don't get written? How is that something Rittenhouse would care about?"

Lucy paused, biting her lip as she seemed to fumble for how to explain before pulling the two of them up against a wall and out of the flow of traffic. "Think about how much the television show CSI affected how the average, everyday person thought about the idea of DNA evidence being introduced into criminal cases and how police could use that and other forensic evidence techniques to solve crimes. To some extent it's hampered cases because juries expect things to be too much like what they see on their TVs, but that aside, thanks to that show and others like it the entire conversation of having to explain every single aspect of crime scene investigation from blood stain analysis to fingerprints to bullet comparison to pathology is so much easier simply because the show existed. People understand it, or at least its basics and the general idea behind it. Sherlock Holmes did that for the entire theory of deduction which is a cornerstone of most modern detective work." 

"Okay, I see your point. That would be bad. Probably very bad. What do you say we go find this Bell guy."

"The medical school seems like a good place to start," Wyatt suggested and he pushed off the wall and looked around for someone they could ask for directions.

Not quite an hour later they were heading towards the lecture hall where Bell was scheduled to be speaking that evening when Wyatt felt eyes on him. "Stop in front of that shop window," he ordered the others, putting enough steel in his tone he knew they would pick up on the fact there was something wrong without him having to take the time to say it.

After carefully shifting so that Rufus and Lucy were in front of him and therefore somewhat protected, Wyatt used the movement of stepping out of the way of someone walking past to get a good look at the street behind them. He didn't spot Emma or anyone else he'd seen with her before. There was no one who appeared out of place for the time period, no one acting like they were uncomfortable or didn't belong but Wyatt was certain.... Ah, there. A man, tall and lean, maybe forty years old, watching them but trying not to be noticeable about it.

Lucy pretended to be interested in the stationary on display, gesturing at it as she asked, "What's wrong? Rittenhouse?" Her voice was pitched low enough that it couldn't be overheard.

"No, I don't think so. Someone's keeping an eye on us though. That guy at our seven o'clock, don't look, we caught his attention maybe four or five minutes ago. He's not being very subtle but maybe we should—" But then Wyatt broke off because the man in question was heading their way.

"I apologize," he said as he approached. He was gripping a large leather bag tightly in one hand but held the other up and open in him front of him in that way people did when they were trying to show they didn't mean any harm. "I meant no offense. It is my habit to observe people around me and it is rare that my deductive skills fail me so completely that I am unable to identify a single person with a few minutes' perusal, let alone an entire group after some study, even if from afar."

Lucy touched Wyatt's arm lightly, a signal they'd worked out to let him know she'd figured something out and he should be prepared in case it didn't go as expected. "You must be Doctor Bell."

The man, Bell, tilted his head, obviously at least somewhat taken by surprise by her declaration. "I am. If I may ask," he began and Wyatt held himself carefully as Bell's eye flicked over the three of them, picking them apart; his face pinching as he took in their clothes, manners, and hair, "how it is you know that?"

"We had hoped to take in one of your lectures," Lucy explained, in that way they did where they answered people's questions without providing any significant information.

"I see. I had not realized knowledge of my skills had reached America."

"Oh yeah, it's all anyone's talking about there. Super, I mean very, very popular." Rufus' rough attempt to hide his modern slang didn't seem to be too successful as Bell's previous look of surprise started to morph into one of suspicion.

"Actually, there's something we were hoping to consult with you about. Would you be able to spare us a few minutes of your time?" Lucy asked, obviously deciding to try a less subtle approach.

Bell consulted his pocket watch. "As it happens I have a few hours free this afternoon."

Just then Wyatt spotted three people fairly far down the street, but heading their way. They caught his attention because of the way they walked differently than everyone around them; their stride was purposeful, determined and focussed. The two men, while both white and dressed properly for the era, had the build and gait of a twenty-first century soldier and the third was a woman with reddish hair; they were still a little too far away to be certain, but he thought she might be Emma. "That's great," Wyatt said as he looked around quickly. All of the stores in the immediate area had large windows and none were deep enough that they'd offer any place big enough for four people to easily be out of the line of sight from the street. There was a large church up ahead but they'd have to cross an open courtyard to reach it and he didn't want to risk being out in the open that long and maybe drawing their attention. "Is there someplace we could go to talk?"

Bell noticed Wyatt's unease and his eyes darted down the street. "I assume you are trying to avoid the three people very determinedly heading our way?" Lucy and Rufus startled at that but Bell continued before either could say anything. "Considering the fact that they are not so subtly hiding weapons, that might be a good idea. If I may?" he asked, gesturing to a jagged break in the stonework up ahead which, once they'd followed him there, revealed itself to be a alleyway that eventually led to a stairwell. "This leads to Mary King’s Close," he explained as they headed down it. "It's a system of narrow alleyways and houses that were covered over to build the Royal Exchange more than a hundred and fifty hundred years ago. While it has been demolished in starts and stops since then it is still technically in use, although most of its shops have closed and the vast majority of its residents have moved on and many avoid it completely due to its damp, claustrophobic nature."

They descended onto a dim covered street. Despite it having been a sunny day, no natural light filtered its way into the Close so they were completely reliant on the lanterns that were set every so often or the occasional light streaming out from a door or window. Bell guided them without hesitation, but the mostly empty cobbled streets echoed with each step and they hadn't gone far before Wyatt could tell they were being followed.

"We need to pick up the pace," Wyatt said as slipped his hand to the holster he had on under his coat. He didn't draw the gun yet, but he was ready so he could return fire if needed.

Oddly unconcerned about the way things were unfolding Bell merely asked, "Are they chasing you or trying to capture me?" seemingly unaffected at being whisked off the street and into a game of cat and mouse.

Rufus looked at Lucy, who shrugged, and then Wyatt who nodded, and then admitted, "They're after you. Well, we think. But probably not to capture you."

"Oh." If Bell was startled by the news that his life was in danger he didn't show it, but he did quicken his pace.

"If it's any consolation, they'd be happy to kill us too," Rufus added.

"As it happens, I do not find that news comforting."

Every so often the street narrowed even further into cramped archways that could only be walked through single file. The first few times they had to pass through one had been annoying but when Wyatt heard the ratcheting of a pistol from behind them he was thankful when, as soon as they turned a corner, he saw they were approaching another. "When I give the signal run for the arch and when you get through press yourselves up into the corners on either side of it. The stone's thick enough a bullet shouldn't be able to penetrate and you'll be protected from ricochets there."

"Wyatt," Lucy began, but then there was the thundering of footsteps approaching and he yelled,

"Go!"

Knowing his shout would have been heard he steeled himself, standing against the wall, waiting. Seconds later the first Rittenhouse agent showed himself, rounding the corner with his gun drawn. In a fluid movement Wyatt grabbed the man's outstretched arm with his left hand, pulling the man towards him and stepped forward, slamming into the neck with the heel of his right hand while bringing his knee up and delivering a blow to the crotch and the combination of the two hits instantly incapacitated him. Wyatt disarmed the man as he went down, shoving him away at the same time and into the others who'd just rounded the corner, distracting them and giving him the time he needed to alter his grip on the gun and fire before they could shoot him or try to get past him to go after Bell, Lucy, and Rufus.

Emma ducked back but the other man (definitely former army but without any special forces training) threw himself at Wyatt and they crashed against the stone wall that lined the street. Wyatt managed to maintain control of his purloined gun and was able to fire past his attacker when Emma poked her head out. She returned fire once, the bullet burying itself in the wall inches from his head, but then retreated and didn't come out again which let Wyatt focus his attention on the man he was grappling with. The guy had thrown an elbow and gotten in a good blow to the solar plexus while Wyatt had been distracted, but with Emma not an immediate concern Wyatt focused on the fight. He ducked his head and hunched a little as he pushed off the wall, ramming his left shoulder into the man and causing him to take several steps backwards to try to keep his balance. Then it was a quick matter of straightening and reaching back to wrap his right hand around the back of the guy's head before dropping down and throwing the guy over his shoulder.

Hitting the ground that way knocked the wind out of him so he was momentarily stunned, but Wyatt slammed his head against the cobblestones for good measure and quickly patted the two guys down, removing three more guns - another Beretta 92FS and two SIG-Sauer P228s - as well as both a standard and serrated Ka-Bar. Emma still hadn't reappeared by the time he'd pocketed the extra weapons so he inched forward, expecting her to pop out and shoot at him, but when he peered around the corner there was no sign of her.

He took a few seconds to check the Beretta's magazine, full other than the two shots he'd fired, as he ran up the street to the archway where he'd told the others to wait. "It's me," he called as he approached.

Lucy stepped out into the open with Rufus and Bell right behind her and they looked down the street to the men he'd taken out. "You okay?" she asked.

"Fine, but we need to get out of here."

"One of them got away?" At Wyatt's nod Rufus added, "Let me guess, Emma?" 

"Yep." Wyatt chose not to acknowledge the muttered curse he got in response to that. Instead he addressed Bell, "Doctor, we need to move. It isn't safe here."

After eying the two downed men for a moment Bell nodded, turning his attention back to Wyatt. "Someone will have heard the shots. There's not any police presence here to speak of, but if we do not wish to attract attention we should be away from here as quickly as possible."

Gesturing up the road Wyatt said, "Lead the way."

After a few more twists and turns they were in a more active area. Stores were open and conducting a brisk business and generally there were more people just milling around. It was brighter as well; not only were there more lamps and lanterns in general, but they were obviously better maintained since none were cracked or dirty like the ones in the other section had been.

"If I may so inquire, what are your plans for me?" Bell asked when they'd paused in front of a tobacconist's shop for a few minutes to try to see if Emma was still following them.

"We're simply trying to keep you safe," Lucy explained.

"Yes, I do realize that and I must thank you for it, but that does little to address any of the questions and concerns I have about this afternoon's events."

That wasn't all that surprising. If Bell really was similar to Sherlock Holmes then he was used to being able to just look at someone and be able to figure all sorts of details out about them but he would be at a loss when it came to people like three of them and the Rittenhouse agents who had come back in time since he wouldn't have any kind of frame of reference for them. Add being chased and gunfire to the mix and, yeah, of course he had some 'questions and concerns'.

The problem was choosing how much to explain, finding that magical line between telling him enough to be believed but not too much and risk changing history. Of course, that was assuming they had the chance to have that kind of discussion in the first place. Now certainly wasn't the right time. There were in a fairly public place and surrounded by people, but Emma wasn't the type to let a little thing like bystanders being in danger bother her when it came to her objective. His gut was telling him that Rittenhouse wanted Bell either captured or dead—well possibly captured, but more likely dead—and he, Rufus and Lucy were all that stood in the way of that. Maybe Lucy was right and Bell really was that important, maybe she wasn't, but either way they were going to do their best to protect him.

Wyatt eventually settled on telling Bell, "You've been completely cooperative so far, which we appreciate, but if you can just hold out until we can get you to safety we'll be happy to tell you what we can."

"What you can," Bell repeated, tilting his head a little and looking at the three of them as he did so, "rather than what you know. Interesting."

Lucy stepped closer to him and reached out to touch his arm, before stopping herself; probably taking into consideration the social customs of the time they were in. "I know this has all been difficult, but if you would trust us for a little while longer. You _are_ in danger, if you believe anything, please believe that."

"Considering the weapons involved I would have to be a fool not to believe that those pursuing us were anything but dangerous, although I cannot say the danger is to me personally or rather if my curiosity regarding you three had resulted in my being swept into an existing chase. A chase that while not ended, has at least been partially thwarted due to the injuries you inflicted upon those two men earlier. From what I observed, abet at a distance, those men would be seriously affected, if not incapacitated, for several hours at a minimum which only leaves that woman—Emma, I believe you said her name was—to continue."

"We can't assume she's alone, even if those two are out of the picture," Lucy pointed out. "We have no way of knowing what kind of contacts she might have here."

"That's true, she's had unexpected support and backup other times when we've crossed paths with her. And even if she doesn't," Wyatt added, making sure his absolute belief in what he was saying was obvious in his tone as he continued, "You can't discount her. She's dangerous, extremely dangerous, all on her own."

"If killing me is her objective then merely evading her here in the Close is unlikely to make a difference in the long run. What is to say she will not simply choose to wait until another opportunity arises at a time when I am no longer under your protection?"

"It's a possibility, sure, but it's not like she's got as much time as she wants to kill you. She only has… what, another year to do it?" Rufus looked to Lucy for confirmation.

"Oh no, less. A lot less." She pursed her lips, considering the matter. "Given everything we know about her intent here, it's probably at most a month or two."

"I do not find the idea of being stalked, be it for a year or only a month, appealing."

As far as Wyatt could tell no one seemed to be paying any attention to them, but this still wasn't the place to be having this conversation. "Which is completely understandable, and we'll do what we can to stop her, but we really do need to get going for now. Do you know the way back to the streets above us?"

Instead of moving, Bell regarded Wyatt for a moment. "Once we are somewhere that you deem safe, will you explain what you can regarding the events of this afternoon?"

Between the three of them Wyatt was sure they could come up with something so he answered a firm, "Yes," which Bell, thankfully, accepted.

After another five or so minutes he'd led them to a ramp and then they were back on street level. 

"Man, I am so glad to be out of there," Rufus said, giving an exaggerated shudder. "That place was creepy, I don't know how people could live or work down there."

"Underground cities have existed around the world, throughout history. In fact it's believed the system of caves, caverns and tunnels that made up the city of Derinkuyu date back well before the Byzantine era, possibly a millennium before. At its peak upwards of 20,000 people lived there. It's actually really fascinating how—" Lucy cut herself off when Bell turned and looked at her.

"You are a historian?"

"Yes." Lucy's reply was halfway between a statement and a question; she probably expected some of the same sexist bullshit they'd come across other times they'd been in the past but Bell didn't scoff or outwardly show any disbelief of the idea of a female historian.

"Interesting," was all Bell said on the matter.

"Doctor Bell, is there somewhere we can—" Wyatt began, but he broke off when he saw Bell's eyes widen in reaction to something behind him.

Spinning around, he spotted Emma emerging from Mary King's Close. "Go," he ordered. "Take Bell and get out of here. Don't run, but move as quickly as you can without drawing attention to yourselves."

Lucy began to argue, but Wyatt tuned her out because he was keeping all his attention on Emma. He could tell the second her eyes adjusted to the light because they zeroed in on the four of them and she pulled out a gun. 

Giving up on stealth, he drew his own and yelled, "Take cover!" throwing himself in front of the others as she fired. He took the shot in the upper arm—his left, thankfully, not his right, but it spoiled his aim as he returned fire, his own bullet whizzing just to her left rather than hitting her center mass as he'd intended.

The minute the bullets began to fly the street devolved into chaos.

People screamed, running this way and that, sometimes into the line of fire. Wyatt, crouching behind a set of crates, did his best to avoid hitting innocent civilians but Emma didn't care, shooting indiscriminately in an attempt to kill them.

Police whistles blew loudly from multiple directions, dragging Emma's attention away from them. Fortunately, Emma had as little desire as they did in getting noticed by the cops and Wyatt watched as she tucked her gun away and then used the continuing commotion to slip away. Disregarding the shrieks and cries from what remained of the crowd in the street and turned to the others, hiding safely behind a stall a few feet behind him.

"We need to get out of here," he said as he reholstered his gun, ignoring the way the motion pulled on the wound. Luckily, his suit coat was a dark enough grey the bloodstain wouldn't be noticeable to the average passerby. 

"She's gone?" Rufus asked.

"Yep, she doesn't want to get caught by local law enforcement any more then we do. But we still need to get you somewhere safe, Doctor Bell—either someplace private that's defensible like a house or office, or a public place where you'd be the center of attention like a meeting or lecture."

"I don't understand."

"In either case you'll be protected," Wyatt explained, taking slow, deep breaths to try to stave off the lightheadedness that was starting to set in. "Either by me or by not giving her an opportunity to kill you quietly. A random firefight in the street is one thing, but a murder in front of plenty of witnesses who know who you are is anything but subtle and I don't think she'll be willing to risk that."

"If I am truly allowed to choose I believe someplace private would be advisable considering your wound needs treatment and I suspect that you do not wish me to do so somewhere that others might observe. I recommend we relocate to my office as I would rather have more supplies on hand than what I carry in my bag if I am to remove a bullet."

"A bullet? Damn, she hit you? You okay?" Rufus, who had been keeping an eye out for the cops, turned to Wyatt and gave him the once over, grimacing at what he saw. "You look like shit."

Wyatt chuckled, trying to keep his tone light and joking. "Thanks. Don't worry, we have a genuine doctor here, I won't need to rely on your Operation game skills this time." So far the blood loss hadn't reached any kind of critical level, but the entire arm and shoulder was throbbing and his fingertips were that numb and cold combination that meant circulation to them was starting to be compromised and overall the adrenaline rush that had kept him going during the firefight was starting to wear off. He could tell he was crashing and being in a defensible place when that happened would be a good idea.

They followed Bell to what was a sort of combination home, office and clinic. They walked through the front room, which had the sense of a waiting room about it and into a treatment room. "Between my position at the University and my work at the hospital I no longer dedicate much time to my practice," Bell explained as he gestured for Wyatt to sit on the exam table, "but I maintain it so I can tend to the occasional patient."

"Lucky for me."

Bell put his bag down on the desk before addressing Lucy, "Are you a nurse as well as a historian?"

"Me, no, I faint at the sight of blood."

"Then you can accompany me in preparing my supplies." To Rufus he said "If you will remain here and help him remove his jacket and shirt?"

"Sure, no problem."

Once Bell and Lucy were gone Wyatt reached into the pockets of his coat and withdrew the guns he'd stashed there earlier. "Here," he said, shoving them at Rufus before slipping the knives out of his sleeves and handing them over as well.

"Woah, woah, woah. How many weapons did you bring on this mission?"

"These are all from our friends in the Close," he said as he reached behind his back to pull the last of the liberated guns from where he'd tucked it into his waistband. "I only brought the same gun I always do, but I can't get out of the holster on my own," he added as an afterthought. He was barely staying upright as it was, trying to shift around enough to get it off would definitely be too much.

Thankfully, Rufus managed to get him out of the coat without too much problem. The holster was fairly easy to remove as well but the shirt itself was tacky with blood and stuck to the wound and Wyatt couldn't bite back a hiss of pain as Rufus teased it off.

"Shit, sorry, man," Rufus said, gathering up all of Wyatt's things into a pile and putting them on the small side table that was a few feet away.

"It's fine." Wyatt focused on his breathing, forcing himself to relax. "I know neither of you like guns but while Bell's in here with me both you and Lucy should be armed. I think Emma's regrouping right now and won't try anything yet, but just in case…."

"Right. Yeah, good idea." Rufus grabbed two of the guns and held them up for Wyatt to see. "These okay?"

"They should be and both have mostly full magazines. You remember how to use them?" He'd made sure to teach them the basics, but that was months ago.

"Keep the safety on until you're ready to fire it and don't point it at anything you're not ready to kill."

"Rufus, you know I'd rather you didn't have to—" he cut himself off when there was the sound of footsteps coming their way. Wyatt quickly motioned to Rufus for him to hide the two guns behind his back.

It was Doctor Bell, wearing an apron of a sort over his clothes with long leather cuffs on his forearms. Lucy wasn't with him. "Your companion is in the kitchen preparing some food," he explained before turning to Rufus. "I assume you do not wish to assist in the surgery?" Rufus shook his head, looking vaguely horrified at the thought. "Then you may either observe or join her."

Rufus looked to Wyatt, who jutted to the doorway with his chin. "Go on, I know you don't want to be here for this. It's okay. You know what she's like in the kitchen, you'll do more good out there then in here." Lucy would kill him if she found out about that crack about her kitchen skills, but it was a way of getting Rufus and the two guns out of the room and that was all that mattered to Wyatt.

Having brought a bowl of water with him, Bell set it on the long table next to where he'd left his bag. "Do you have any other injuries?"

"No, sir." He'd taken a few good hits, but nothing more than usual during a mission.

Bell raised an eyebrow but Wyatt couldn't tell if it was in response to his instinctive use of the word 'sir' or his claim that other then the gunshot he wasn't hurt. "I shall trust your word on that," Bell said after a moment. "If you could lie down then please."

As Wyatt eased himself down he kept an eye on Bell, watching as he pulled out various supplies and then began washing his hands in the bowl. It wasn't a quick rinse either, but much closer to the modern hygienic ideals then he'd expected to see in this time period. Bell then poured something alcoholic smelling on a cloth and brought it over.

"I will need to clean the area to see the wound. I see from your scars that you have been injured before so you are most likely aware how painful the procedure. I can offer you laudanum or—"

"No," Wyatt interrupted. "I need to stay awake and alert, just in case. I can't risk taking anything that could change that." Lying flat already had him feeling a bit clearer; once his arm was taken care of he could probably get right back to protecting Bell, but that wouldn't be possible if there were any drugs in his system.

"I see." He didn't seem happy about it, but he accepted it. "Then if you will try to relax, I'll get to work. If you could turn this way please," Bell said, guiding Wyatt's head so he was looking at the door off to his left rather than his wounded right side. Wyatt willed himself to stay still while Bell began, first wiping away the blood and then cleaning the wound itself. The touch was gentle, yet sure. Confident. "It might help if I distract you while I work," Bell suggested after a few moments. "Perhaps I could ask you a few questions as a way of passing the time?"

Wyatt was under no illusions that the 'distraction' would be for his benefit alone. Bell had been rolling with everything so far, but the man had to have a million questions about everything that had happened since this afternoon. "What do you want to know?"

"You are a soldier." It was presented as a statement, not a question, but Wyatt decided to answer it anyway.

"Yes."

"It is evident in your bearing, your skill, and your speech patterns, yet you carry yourself like none I have ever seen. Your manner is different enough it cannot be accounted for just by the fact you are American."

"It's how I was trained." 

The tugging on his arm intensified for a moment and the pain grew sharper. Despite his best efforts Wyatt must have shown some kind of reaction because Bell commented, "I've almost got the bullet out…. Ah, here we go. How strange."

"Strange?"

"While I am by no means an expert on bullets I have kept up with the literature regarding them and this one has a very unusual construction." There was the soft 'tink' sound of Bell dropping the bullet into a small tray before he returned to working on the wound. "The guns I saw you with earlier—after the altercation in the alleyway and then later in the square—were not of a make or model that I am familiar with and now I find their bullets are as atypical as well."

"It's not surprising that you didn't recognize the guns," Wyatt said, deciding to opt for obfuscation rather than outright lying. "They weren't manufactured here."

He hadn't thought it would work, trying to skirt the truth like that, and it didn't. Bell saw right through him and asked, "If I were to ask where they were manufactured, would you tell me?"

After debating back and forth with himself he decided to say, "I would." The man was smart enough to realize something was going on and refusing to provide any information at all would most likely make him more suspicious then he already was. Besides, telling Bell _where_ they were made was not the same as _when._

Bell seemed to consider his statement, although what he read into it Wyatt couldn't be certain. Instead of prying further Bell made a soft 'hmmm' noise and then a few minutes later announced, "Nearly done. The damage was much less than I'd feared— the arterial damage was minor. A few more stitches and… there we go."

All in all Wyatt had definitely had worse experiences being patched up, not even counting that impromptu surgery back in 1865 a year, or twelve depending how you counted it, ago. Bell deftly bandaged up his arm and then helped him sit up, steadying him until his head cleared enough he could support himself unaided. 

After gathering together his supplies Bell said, "You rest here for a moment. I'll send your friends in with a fresh shirt and some food and water for you. I'll be back as soon as I've divested myself of my surgical gear and cleaned the equipment. Once you've dressed be careful to move your arm as little as possible; I'll fashion a sling for you when I return."

"Thank you, doctor."

"You were injured while protecting me; Hippocratic Oath aside, it was the least I can do."

Not being comfortable waiting around unarmed, Wyatt debated getting to his feet and trying to walk over to grab a gun out of the clothing pile. While still sitting he didn't feel that light headed, but he couldn't be certain he'd stay that way once he was standing up. The problem was that even if he was able to get a gun, it wasn't like he could secure it in a holster or hide it on him without a jacket or shirt on and if Bell returned before the others brought him a shirt he'd know that he'd defied orders about moving to much. Although Bell probably also knew that, as a soldier, Wyatt would want to be able to defend himself so it was unlikely he'd be that surprised to find that Wyatt had armed himself in his absence, despite telling him to stay put. Then again, there was also a chance that standing up might make him pass out and Bell (and Lucy and Rufus) would rightfully tell him off for that.

All in all, unless Rittenhouse attacked in the next few minutes he should probably stay put.

At least Wyatt didn't have to worry about undoing Bell's work on his arm; he was pretty sure that the stitches and the strip of clean soft cotton that Bell had used as bandaging would hold up against anything other than another knock-down, drag-out fight. Not that he planned on testing it any time soon, with any luck Emma would need a little while to regroup considering how badly Wyatt had injured those two Rittenhouse agents. He hadn't wanted to risk taking the time to kill them, but he had made sure that they wouldn't be moving about easily for quite some time either. 

"Knock, knock," Lucy called before pushing open the door without giving him a chance to respond. She had a bundle tucked awkwardly in her elbow and clutched against her chest, from the slightly lumpy shape of it, Wyatt guessed it was the guns and they had been wrapped in something in an attempt to hide them.

Rufus followed her, carrying a tray that was piled high with food and drinks. "Hey man, how you doing?" 

"All patched up," Wyatt said, gesturing to the bandaging with his right hand. "Any sign of Rittenhouse out there?"

"Thankfully, not." Lucy carefully placed her bundle next to the pile of Wyatt's things before disassembling it. After removing the two guns and slipping them under Wyatt's coat she shook out what they'd been wrapped in—the shirt Bell had promised him. 

"So what's the plan?" Rufus plunked the tray down on an empty section of the exam table. "How long do you think Emma's going to continue to go after Bell? Do we stay here the whole time? And, let's be real here, are you even able to continue to protect him?"

"Rufus—"

"You just got a bullet taken out of you. I know you've continued on when it's happened before, it's not like I'm ever going to forget what happened in D.C. when we were there for Lincoln, but we knew what Flynn was after then and exactly how much time we had to stop it. But here…." Rufus sighed. "We got nothing."

"That's not entirely true," Lucy said, holding the shirt out and guiding his left arm into the sleeve. "Once Conan Doyle's been influenced enough to have the basis for his later writings there won't be any reason for Rittenhouse to remain here."

"Okay, right, but that's still pretty open ended," Rufus pointed out.

"Not really. All he will need is enough of an idea of the technique to be able to recreate it in fiction later and, if I'm not mistaken, while Bell was his biggest influence, there were others. So we just need to—" she broke off, offering Wyatt a quick "sorry" when the shirt got caught on the bandage as she pulled it up after he got his right arm in.

"S'okay." Getting dressed when wounded was always annoying and usually hurt, he hadn't really expected anything different this time, especially with the bulkier cloth bandage rather than more modern gauze he was used to. 

"No, it's not. You're hurt. Sorry, I should have been more careful. Maybe Rufus is right, maybe you should—" 

"You guys are overreacting. Bell fixed me up. He's insisting on a sling, which will limit my hand-to-hand ability, but my right arm's fine so we don't have to worry about my aim being off."

Rufus rolled his eyes while Lucy glared at him as she finished fussing with his collar. "We're not worried about your aim, Wyatt," she said after a moment. "We're worried about you." 

"I'm fine. Really. Barely dizzy at all." He started buttoning up the shirt only to have Lucy slap his hands away and do it herself, muttering something very uncomplimentary about him under her breath that he chose to ignore.

Not quite hiding his own huff of amusement, Rufus shook his head and asked, "So how are we doing this then?" 

"I figure we'll plan on staying for the short term and play things by ear. If, after a few days, Rittenhouse hasn't acted or if they come after him with more firepower than we can deal with then we'll reassess, but for now I think we should stay and try to protect Bell."

"I don't really see that we have any other choice," Lucy agreed, but didn't sound very happy about it. "Rufus?"

"Yeah, I don't either."

A short time later, when Wyatt was slipping his jacket on over his holster, Bell returned. He had with him a long piece of cloth which he folded into a triangle before approaching. "Now to give your arm the proper support. As your coat is already on, I assume you'd rather the sling was secured over it rather than under?"

"Yes, sir."

Bell directed Rufus to hold one end of it behind Wyatt's neck as he brought it under and around Wyatt's forearm and then offered the other end to Rufus as well. "Hold that for me while I adjust the tension if you will." After fiddling with it for a moment, positioning how the arm lay in it, he moved behind Wyatt and tied it up. "And how is that?" he asked Wyatt.

"Much better, thanks," he answered honestly. While he probably would have been able to go without the sling, wearing it made him realized how much effort it had been taking to keep from moving the arm and exacerbating the injury. Since the sling does that work for him it gave him a chance to relax some of those muscles. Knowing he'd be able to stash a knife or two in there as well didn't hurt either.

Bell directed Rufus to bring in chairs from the waiting room and they ate in silence for a while before Bell said, "I am scheduled to lecture tonight. Should I expect another attempt on my life if I do so?"

Wyatt considered it for a moment. "I don't think so, not at the lecture itself anyway. Like I said earlier, outright killing you when others are watching isn't what they'll want. An act like that is too big, too likely to be noticed. These people like to fly under the—" no, he couldn't say radar, that hadn't been invented yet. Hell, flying wasn't even a thing people did yet— "they can't risk being in the limelight like that." 

"Your manner of speech is as unusual as your weapons." 

Bell's tone had been perplexed rather than upset or accusatory so Wyatt didn't think there was any reason to respond to it other than offer a shrug with his good arm as he grabbed a few more of the hunks of meat and cheese off the tray, placing them on his plate. Between the lightheadedness and slight queasiness he hadn't taken much food originally, uncertain how it would sit on his stomach, but overall he was feeling steadier so he figured eating a little more might not be a bad idea.

Lucy, like she always did, tried to cover for them. "That's Americans for you," she said lightly, offering it like it was a vaguely credible explanation for all the differences Bell must have noted by now.

Wyatt wasn't remotely surprised when Bell didn't seem to buy it, raising an eyebrow in response.

Deciding to bring the conversation back to the topic at hand Wyatt offered, "We'll provide protection for you on the way there and back to your home afterwards. Once we get you safely through the end of the day we can sit down and discuss options for where to go from there if we need to."

"I rather assume that by saying 'we' you, in fact, mean 'you,' considering it is obvious that amongst your companions you are the only one who has any military background to speak of. While I have no doubt it is possible that a negro might be a soldier in America, it is highly unlikely that a woman would be and even if that were not the case neither of you show any evidence of having such training."

"I promise that we," Wyatt made sure to stress the word as he gestured with his right hand to include Rufus, Lucy and himself, "will protect you to the best of our abilities."

"In the end that is all one can ask for," Bell conceded. "I… do not understand precisely what is happening nor why I am being hunted, but I do trust in your commitment to preserving my safety. I must admit, however, I would appreciate if, before we left, you fulfilled your earlier promise and explained to me what you are able to about who these people are and why they wish to capture me or see me dead, whichever it may be."

Not unsurprisingly, Wyatt and Rufus both looked to Lucy to offer the explanation; that was sort of her thing and she tended to be better at it so they left her to it. "Ah. Yes. Well, you see there is a group of people who, along with other things, are trying to stop the growth of various scientific practices and, given you are leader in your field, it was only natural they would come after you."

The ego stroking approach had worked well for them in the past, but Wyatt was pretty sure Bell saw right through it so he added, "They have money and power and think their vision of the world is how it's supposed to be and you're standing in the way of that."

"Who is this group? How are you to protect me against such odds? And why did you say earlier that the woman who was chasing us earlier, Emma, only had a month or two in which to kill me?"

"Once someone's influence reaches a certain point trying to stop them becomes too difficult; even if killed it's likely someone else will just take up where the first person left off," Lucy explained, deftly avoiding mentioning anything specific about Rittenhouse itself. "You're already well on your way to being famous enough to have that kind of protection against them coming after you." 

"I am? Well, that's good to hear."

Rufus added, "With you being a teacher, we were thinking that all it'll take is you passing on what you know to a few more students and then you'll be too big for them to take out."

That wasn't exactly true; Rittenhouse wouldn't care about how well known Bell was. If they thought they could get away with murdering him quietly there was a good chance they'd do it without a second thought. The story they were spinning to Bell was just that, a story, but if Lucy was right and Bell was able to teach Conan Doyle enough to be able to write the Sherlock Holmes books later then the present, their present, should stay the same. They couldn't stay here and protect Bell forever, it just wasn't feasible. Hopefully, by guarding him until that point Emma would realize they'd thwarted Rittenhouse's plans and give up, leaving Edinburgh to try altering history to fit whatever vision they had for it at some other point in time.

Wyatt had found they weren't usually that lucky, but there was a first time for everything. Bell seemed to accept their answers at face value, or was at least faking it pretty well, and the conversation shifted to what he was going to be speaking about tonight and his schedule for the next few days until it was time to clean up from dinner and head on their way. 

Although not too happy about it, both Lucy and Rufus both agreed to take one of the extra guns. He hoped they wouldn't have to use them but it was better to be safe than sorry. Wyatt secreted a gun in his waistband in the small of his back, another in his right jacket pocket and the last in his holster. One of the knives went back into his right sleeve and the other into his sling. 

"You arm yourself like you are marching into battle," Bell commented dryly as he watched Wyatt securing the weapons.

"I'd rather be ready for a war that doesn't happen then be caught unprepared if one breaks out."

Bell gave a half nod, accepting what Wyatt said, as he finished gathering the things he'd need for his lecture. "There is logic in that," he admitted as they headed out.

After getting some basic directions Wyatt took point, letting the others talk amongst themselves as he kept an eye out for danger. The air was nicely crisp and cool, which helped keep his head clear. They were just outside the lecture hall when a figure detached itself from the darkness and headed their way shouting, "Doctor Bell! Doctor Bell! There you are!"

Considering the incoming person was young, late teens most likely, and was far too loud and loose limbed to be a fighter of any sort, Wyatt didn't try to stop him as he approached, instead just slipping his hand into his sling to grab the knife to be ready just in case he'd read the situation wrong.

He hadn't, since Bell obviously recognized them and stepped forward, calling, "Doyle?"

Doyle? Was this young guy Arthur Conan Doyle? Rufus, obviously realizing the same thing, raised an eyebrow at Lucy who smiled at them both. 

"I know it wasn't required, but I read the dissertation you gave to the Royal Medical Society back when you were a student and I was wondering if I could schedule some time to go over some of its finer points with you?"

"Of course. It will be interesting to revisit some of the theories I proposed in it." Bell paused, tilting his head slightly as his eyes raked over Wyatt, Rufus and Lucy. "It is perhaps a little early in your schooling for such an opportunity, but I have been considering acquiring an assistant for some time now and your previous coursework indicates you would be well suited for the position. What do you say?"

"Doctor Bell," Doyle breathed, hand on his chest, the offer obviously completely taking him by surprise. "I. I would be honored. Thank you."

"I'll announce it at the end of my lecture tonight." Bell's response was not directed to Doyle, but rather to the three of them with a jut of his chin, as if making a point of it.

They all knew what he was doing, making it obvious he was passing on his knowledge and techniques and therefore hoping that would raise his standing to the point where Rittenhouse might give up on their attempts to kill him so Lucy nodded back to acknowledge it. There was no guarantee it would work of course, but it gave Bell a better shot at least. And, more importantly, it gave Sherlock Holmes' creation and their own present a better chance of happening as well.

The rest of the evening was unremarkable. Bell's lecture was well attended, but by people who were there because they were interested in the subject at hand rather than anyone who wanted to do him harm. There was a smattering of applause when Doyle's new position was mentioned, but there was no way of knowing if the information about it would filter back to Emma and Rittenhouse.

Wyatt had only listened to the lecture with half an ear since he was pretty worn out and needed to have most of his attention on the crowd to keep an eye out for danger, but he still found it interesting. At one point Bell had asked for volunteers from the audience to use his so-called 'observational techniques' to deduce various things about the different people— noting one was a cobbler due to the way the man's trousers had a worn patch on the inside of the knee and another a Londoner due to a particular staining along his cuff. No wonder Bell had been so confused by meeting people from 2018, he had all these tricks for reading who people were and what they did for a living but he wouldn't have had any for anything that'd have worked to explain what he saw in people from his future.

Afterwards they escorted Bell back to him home and there was no signs of anyone following them on the way. "I have two guest bedroom," Bell announced after unlocking the door and letting them in. "You should take them for the night."

"Oh, no, we can't—" Lucy began, but Bell interrupted her by pointing to Wyatt and saying,

"I insist you take me up on my hospitality as I cannot in good conscious allow someone so close to collapse leave when I have a warm bed for them to recover in."

Not surprisingly, that got Rufus and Lucy's attention and within seconds Wyatt was having to fend off their well meaning scolding concern for not telling them he was starting to falter.

"Guys," he interrupted when he could get a word in edgewise. "I know my own limits and I haven't reached them yet. You'll just have to trust me about that." 

They'd worked together long enough now that while Rufus and Lucy didn't quite accept how he might downplay his own injuries while in the field, they did understand the need to let him assess his own abilities. He hadn't failed them before and he wasn't planning on failing them now.

"Not having reached your limit is not the same as not needing rest," Bell stated. It wasn't a censure, that would have gotten Wyatt's back up and had him protesting immediately, instead it seemed to have been offered in concern. 

Lucy turned to look at him then and she must have seen something in his face or his stance or whatever because she did that 'grimacing while trying to hide it' thing she did when she was truly confronted with the reality of what he had to do sometimes in order to complete a mission and that there was always a chance he'd get hurt doing it. He was pretty sure that while she'd been slowly getting more accustomed to the former, she never would be comfortable with the latter. "If the offer is genuine," she said, directing her comment to Bell even though she was still looking at Wyatt, "we'd be happy to take you up on it. Especially since it'd help us ensure your safety overnight.'

Wyatt did his best not to snicker at her justification, instead considering the matter logically. It wasn't a large house from what sense he had gotten of it it, and would be fairly defensible if it wound up being necessary, but on that note…. "I'll need to secure the area first. Do you have any staff?"

"Normally, I have a housekeeper in residence, but Mrs. Bulkley is away on her annual holiday this week."

"Is there anyone scheduled to come by first thing in the morning? Appointments, deliveries, anything like that?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"The door, or the front one anyway, is a strong, sturdy wood, but the lock won't be that much of a deterrent to someone with the right skills. But if we secure a chair under the doorknob, under all the doorknobs of all the doors, it'll add an extra level of protection. Of course, anyone could get around that by breaking a window and get in that way, but it's hard to do that quietly and this street's pretty well lit and in a neighborhood like this there's a good chance that someone skulking about trying to break in would be noticed."

"I would hope that to be the case." Bell sounded vaguely horrified.

Wyatt was ordered to sit while they blocked the doors in the way he thought would make things safest. Once that was done Bell gave them a quick tour of the place - happily, since it was also Bell's office and practice it was set up to be fairly secure - before leading them to the bedrooms upstairs. There was a bit of arguing over sleeping arrangements since typically when there weren't enough beds Wyatt would just sleep on the floor but Bell absolutely forbade it.

In the end Wyatt got one of the beds, Lucy the other and Bell unearthed a sort of cot/camp bed thing he kept on hand for patients and they set it up in the bedroom Wyatt was taking for Rufus. "You guys need to stop overreacting," Wyatt grumbled as Rufus and he started to get ready for the night. "I'm—" 

"I'm going to interrupt you right there, because you were going to say 'I'm fine' again and if you did that there was a better than even chance I was going to hit you."

"Rufus." Wyatt scrubbed his good hand across his face.

"You got shot, man. Yeah, it wasn't that serious a hit and Bell got the bullet out, but that still doesn't make you fine. We're a team. We look out for one another. Care about one another. Deal with it. Now, are you going to let me help you get out of that sling and into bed or are you going to be an ass about it and I'm going to help you anyway?"

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Well, when you ask so nicely…" Stepping closer he ducked his head a little so Rufus could get better access to the sling and practically before he knew what was happening he'd been divested of the sling, coat and holster and was being shoved towards the bed. "Should I start calling you Florence Nightingale?" he grumbled when Rufus insisted untying his shoes for him.

"You do and you'll get a _real_ good taste of my bedside manner."

Making sure he had a gun in reach, Wyatt begrudgingly accepted Rufus' form of fusing and let himself be tucked into bed with his wounded arm propped up by a pillow. "You going to be okay on that cot?"

"I'll be fine, Wyatt. Go to sleep."

Then, as if to settle the issue, Rufus settled down on the cot and turned the wick of the lantern low, plunging the room into darkness. Wyatt tried to stay alert, to be awake in case Rittenhouse attacked, but he was too tired and fell asleep without meaning too.

No one broke in overnight and Rufus only complained a little about having to move the heavy chairs back where they were supposed to be so the doors could be used. The day went by uneventfully and there was nothing to do but keep an eye on passersby as Wyatt shadowed Bell throughout his day and then loomed in the back of the auditorium while Bell taught class. Thanks to where and when they were, Lucy and Rufus had even less to do: women were incredibly rare at the University since they had only been allowed admission a few years earlier and it was also predominantly white. After some discussion it had been decided that the amount of attention either might bring to themselves would end up interfering with any attempt to protect Bell so they stayed outside or in nearby shops, keeping an eye out for Emma.

The next day unfolded similarly, the only true change was that it was Doyle's first day as Bell's assistant and, as a result, he walked the ward with Bell, taking notes as Bell assessed the patients there. Even Wyatt could tell that Doyle was well out of his depth when it came to 'deducing and diagnosing' as Bell put it, but he was still a student so Wyatt figured he had plenty of time to learn.

The only noticeable incident occurred when a patient became violent just as Bell had started to examine him. Wyatt was closer and reacted faster than anyone else so he wound up being the one to hold the man down, pinning him to the bed with his good arm to prevent him from hurting himself or anyone else while Bell prepared a syringe and then dosed him with whatever it contained. Within minutes the man was calmed and Wyatt loosened the pressure before looking up at Bell for direction as to whether or not he should release him completely.

At Bell's nod he did, standing up and readjusting his sling since the movement had pulled on it slightly. He started to move away, to return to his unobtrusive, and hopefully less noticeable background position, when Doyle reached out, although he stopped himself before he could grab him.

"That was amazing. You were so quick and careful not to hurt him."

"Just trying to help," Wyatt offered, not sure what else to say.

"Yes, and while we appreciate your assistance," Bell said as he passed the now empty syringe off to an orderly, "his fever made him unpredictable and you could have injured your arm further."

"I was careful." And he had been. His weapons were secured well; he'd fashioned both a sheath for the knife he kept in the sling and a sort of waistband holster for the extra gun so he didn't need to worry about either getting loose and he knew how to restrain someone with only one arm so he hadn't pulled on his wound at all.

Bell bristled a little at that, but, maybe because of all the people around them he let the issue go with only a glare in Wyatt's direction. Doyle still seemed taken aback by the whole incident, but whether it was in reaction to the disruptive patient, Wyatt's actions, Bell's response, or Wyatt's presence there in the first place, he couldn't tell.

The rest of Bell's rounds were seemingly routine with nothing Wyatt found noteworthy happening. They parted ways with Doyle, who stayed behind since Bell had requested he write up his observations and notes for them to go over later, and left to go to the café where they were going to meet Rufus and Lucy. Once outside Bell turned to Wyatt, saying, "You should not have interfered with that patient. I understand why you did so and I appreciated the help, but we maintain orderlies on staff for that purpose and—"

"We got trouble," Wyatt interrupted.

Two men were approaching, walking towards them with a swift, confident swagger. The one on the right was 5'8" or 9" and scruffily dressed. He was holding one of his hands down away from his body and curled around something that forced his wrist to be stiff and his arm shift awkwardly with each step, a sure sign he was trying to conceal a cudgel or bat or something like that. The one on the left was taller, easily 6', and had his right hand tucked inside his coat which meant he had most likely had a knife or gun he was going to pull out the moment they were close enough to use it accurately.

"Oh. Oh, yes," Bell said quickly, noticing them immediately.

Getting into a fight directly outside the hospital wasn't ideal, it was too public and there were too many innocent civilians around, so Wyatt quickly led Bell to a less crowded side street. The men followed, not even trying to be subtle about it, but it enabled Wyatt to be able to tell that the two of them were their only pursuers. These two were nothing like the men that had been with Emma, there was nothing to their manner that suggested any kind of modern military training and they didn't even seem to realize they'd been spotted.

Eventually finding an out of the way alcove, Wyatt slipped the knife out of the sling as he pulled it off. Then he grabbed the spare gun out from behind his back and quickly cleared the chamber and took off the safety before shoving it and the sling at Bell as he pressed him up against the wall and as much out of the way as possible. "You can yell at me about being cavalier about health later. For now take this gun and use it to defend yourself if needed. If they come after you just point it and pull the trigger." The second Bell took it Wyatt turned, knife hidden in his hand but ready to be thrown, and settled into a ready stance as he waited for the men to find them.

"Looky what we got here," the shorter one drawled. The cudgel he'd be hiding earlier now dangled loosely from his hand. 

The taller one was only a few steps behind, but his weapon was still hidden. "We just want that doctor's bag of yours. Hand it over and no one gets hurt." 

So that was how they'd been told to play it, a robbery gone wrong. "That's not going to happen." Wyatt kept his voice firm, with a hint of violence behind it.

They'd either been warned about him or just told to use whatever force they thought necessary because they didn't even try to argue further. As the shorter man came at Wyatt, his cudgel held high and ready to attack, the taller one pulled a revolver out. Wyatt switched his grip on the knife and threw it, paying attention only long enough to see it hit him in the chest and the man go down before he ducked as the other man swung, avoiding the hit. Shifting to the side, he delivered a sharp blow to the man's kidney before sweeping him off his feet. Once the man hit the floor Wyatt kneeled next to him, quickly positioned himself, and then broke the man's neck.

Jumping to his feet he quickly checked on the first man - dead - and pulled the knife out. There didn't appear to be any other attackers at the moment so he wouldn't immediately need to use it, but even so, it wouldn't be a good idea to leave a 21st century knife behind as evidence for a 19th century murder. He left the man's gun behind though since it was an old one and seemed right for this time.

"You killed him. You killed them both." It wasn't said as a censure or condemnation, more just as a slightly… shocked statement.

"I'm sorry, but I had no choice," Wyatt explained, gesturing for Bell to exit the alcove. "We need to go." They had managed to avoid anyone witnessing the fight, but someone was going to notice the bodies sooner or later and the further away they could be when that happened, the better. 

"Yes, of course." Bell shook his head and seemed to come out of his daze, pushing off the wall and thrusting the spare gun at Wyatt. "Put this away and then let's get your sling back on, there's no need to put undue strain on you wound." 

After slipping the gun back in its impromptu holster and pocketing the knife Wyatt replied, "Once we're far enough away," and then headed back to the main street with Bell so they could make their way to the café where Rufus and Lucy would be waiting for them. He kept an ear cocked and wasn't surprised to hear shouting and calls for the police from around where they'd left the bodies.

"Those two were common street brawlers," Bell informed him after he'd insisted they stop a short time later so Wyatt could put back on his sling. "Their shoes were well worn, socks knitted, trousers mended with rough stitches, hands calloused, fingernails dirty and I could go on listing recognizable tells. There were completely unlike the men who had been with your Emma and followed us in the Close."

"Yeah, I know. Actually, I think that might be a good thing."

Bell made a last adjustment to the sling before deciding it was providing the proper support. "A _good_ thing? Whatever do you mean?" 

"Let's meet up with the others, I'll explain it all then."

Lucy and Rufus were pretending to window-shop a few stores down from where they'd arranged to meet. "Finally, I'm starving," Rufus grumbled. "What took you so long? We were about to head on in without you."

"We ran into some trouble, but I think we're out of it now."

"Wait, what? What do you mean? Are you okay?" Lucy asked before turning to Bell and asked him, "Are you both okay?"

"The entire… incident was over in moments, I am fine. Although," Bell added, "while I don't believe you reinjured your arm, I would like to make certain. My office at the University, perhaps? Space enough for an examination and private enough for this discussion?"

They all agreed, although Rufus gave the café a sad look as he did so.

Once in the office, while Bell was unwrapping the bandage, Wyatt told the others about what happened after leaving the hospital. "They were definitely hired muscle," he stressed once he'd finished describing the fight. "And there was no sign of Emma or the men who'd originally been with her."

"So what are you thinking?" Rufus asked. "She paid off some local thugs to attack Doctor Bell and then, what, left?"

"Yeah, I do. Maybe she figured it wasn't worth her time since we were here to protect him, maybe she was supposed to try to keep this quiet and it already attracted too much attention, maybe she got new orders, who knows, but either way I just don't think she'd leave the job to others if she was still here to take care of it herself."

"True, Emma has always been one for being in the thick of things and never been afraid of getting her hands dirty." 

"Yeah, I'm with Lucy, if they were just random criminals being paid off then and she didn't show up to finish you guys off when they failed, then she's probably long gone."

Bell, though obviously following their conversation, kept his attention on Wyatt's arm didn't comment on it other to make a soft, 'hmmm' noise.

"Doctor?"

"Despite the altercation your stitches are intact," Bell commented after a bit and began rewrapping the bandage.

He'd known he hadn't popped any stitches; not only had he been careful, but he knew what that felt like. "That wasn't what I was asking about. Since those men are dead, it's unlikely there's anyone still around that's still trying to kill you. It's not a guarantee, of course, but pretty close to it so you won't need protection any more. Would you be all right with us leaving?"

Bell pursed his lips in consideration before nodding as he helped Wyatt into the sling. "The logic you present is sound and while I have by no means tired of your company, I do understand you must move on to protect the next person targeted by this… group. You have been careful not to provide me with the information regarding those who wish me ill, or anything specific about yourselves, and I have not pressed the issue for I've no desire to be lied to and I suspect you'd be unable to present me with the truth so let me just thank you for saving my life." He offered Wyatt his hand.

"You're welcome." While Bell was shaking Lucy and Rufus's hands Wyatt added, "Just in case, you should make sure to remain aware of your surroundings when you're out and about. Although that shouldn't be to difficult for you since you've shown you know what to look out for." 

"That I do, and I can be careful to travel in the company of others for the next week or two, at least until I can be certain there is no one else still following me." 

"Then we should probably be on our way," Lucy said. "And let you get back to your normal routine."

They spent the next few minutes with their goodbyes and then headed back to the lifeboat. "You really think Bell's going to be okay?" Rufus asked as they settled into their seats.

"If Rittenhouse were still after him there would have been more than just those two waiting for us. Add that to the fact that Emma wasn't there? Yeah, I think - whether it was because we got to him first or Bell taking on Doyle as an assistant - they decided to cut their losses here and move onto someone else," Wyatt said, somewhat distractedly as he tried to thread the seat's straps around the sling.

"There's no way of knowing which it was," Lucy added, leaning over to guide the buckle into position over his arm and then snapped it shut.

"Thanks."

Due to the wound the trip back was a little rougher than usual for Wyatt, but not terribly so. Once they'd cracked the hatch Agent Christopher saw his sling and asked if he needed a doctor and he honestly answered, "Already saw one and he said I'll be fine," which the others confirmed so she let it go.

"We skipped lunch and I'm starving," Rufus said as he walked past Wyatt to head to the kitchen area. "Let's get something to eat."

"Sounds great." Lucy snagged a tablet on the way, typing as she walked.

"What are you looking up?" Wyatt wasn't particularly hungry, but he followed them for a lack of anything better to do. "Checking on Bell?"

"Yeah, it looks like he lived a good, long life. He didn't die until 1911 when he was in his seventies and he's still listed as being the inspiration for Sherlock Holmes."

"So the trip didn't change anything," Wyatt commented, "That's good."

Then Lucy started laughing, eyes dancing as she looked at him over the tablet. "Well, that's not entirely true. There's a new Holmes story listed here _The Adventure of the Stoic Soldier_. I wonder who might have given Doyle the idea for that?"

"I'm not," Wyatt started to protest, turning to Rufus for support, but he was laughing too. "It's probably just a coincidence. I'm not. I mean…." He sighed, accepting the inevitable. "Fine. Why don't we read it while we eat?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Mary King's Close was sealed up in 1902 and the last of its residents were forced out and its businesses closed. It was largely forgotten for the next hundred years until it opened as a tourist attraction offering guided tours in 2003. 
> 
> The place where Wyatt fought with Rittenhouse's agents would have looked like this (minus the railings):
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


End file.
